


I Dare You

by wolfqueen1015



Category: The 100, The 100 (TV)
Genre: Bellarke, F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 16:20:37
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6914461
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wolfqueen1015/pseuds/wolfqueen1015
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I don't know yet if this is going to be left at a measly two little chapters or if I might expand later on the entire concept.<br/>Basically there's a dare, as the title implies, issued by Octavia that Bellamy can't get a girlfriend, yada yada, you know where this is going, it's tagged Bellarke! And the self-indulgent fic writer I am is sorry, not sorry about doing ALL THE TROPES.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Face that Launched 1000 Ships

Bellamy Blake was not the type to flout a challenge. And the dare his younger sister had just issued could simply not be ignored, not after she’d said it in front of several of their mutual friends and had stated her firm belief that there was absolutely no way he could do it. To add insult to injury, their friends had promptly agreed with Octavia. She had in fact been so certain that he had no chance that she’d offered up looking into local colleges if he won, which Bell had been begging her to do for months. Of course, if _she_ won, he had to drop the subject indefinitely. He just couldn’t take this lying down, oh no. No matter what it took, Bellamy was going to have a girlfriend to bring home to by summer break.

          For the next week or so, he and his enlisted co-conspirator and best friend, Miller, tried to come up with a solution to this problem. By Friday, they were no closer to a valid plan. It turned out that Bellamy had virtually no female friends because he’d either slept with them and never called during his ‘ _fuck them and leave them_ ’ phase or his asshole-tendencies had run them off before any sort of attachment could be formed.

          Their list of possibilities wasn’t extensive. Actually it had a grand total of two names on it. First there was Roma, which was a last resort because Bellamy had no desire to get her hopes up for more. He had initially distanced himself from her for that very reason; she’d gotten a little too cozy with the idea of an actual relationship. The second name on the list was _not_ his idea. Miller had written down Clarke. She was friends with his sister, as well as everyone else he knew, actually, and they’d known each other for years but any time they were around each other for any extended period of time, they ended up in a heated argument. Miller was convinced it was sexual tension, a form of aggressive foreplay that could be remedied by them giving in and sleeping together already but Bellamy was pretty convinced Clarke might actually want to poison his cereal when he wasn’t looking.

          When a month had passed, however, and Bellamy was no closer to having a fake girlfriend, the desperation of a man who would not lose a dare without a fight set in and he found himself down the hall from his apartment, standing outside Clarke’s door, debating on whether or not to knock. He’d almost gotten up the nerve when someone cleared their throat behind him. Bellamy turned to see Clarke standing there, a laundry basket perched on her hip. She was wearing small shorts and a tank top. No bra, he noticed immediately. If a man had to have a fake girlfriend, they could do a lot worse than Clarke Griffin. The Greek myth nerd inside Bellamy couldn’t help comparing her to Helen, owner of the face that launched 1000 ships. Golden blonde hair, crystal clear blue eyes and legs for days, he had no doubt she fit the bill.

          “Hey, princess.” She gave him an amused smile, nudging him over with her basket so she could unlock her door. Clarke gestured for him to come in.

          “So what’s up, Bell? You know it’s like 2 a.m., right?”

          “Like you sleep. You were doing laundry.”

          She laughed. “Fair enough. So. You need something?”

          Bellamy paused. For all he’d rehearsed this speech, now that she was standing in front of him, he couldn’t remember any part of it. So instead he blurted out, “I need you to date me til like mid-July.”


	2. Sex and Pancakes

“I’m sorry…what?” Bellamy took it as a good sign that she wasn’t staring at him as if he were insane. She just looked confused. After he’d explained the situation, Clarke mostly just seemed entertained.  
“Am I really the best you’ve got?”  
“Is that self-depreciating, Griffin? Because as your fake-boyfriend, I won’t stand for it.”  
She waved him into the living room to sit down. He ended up sitting on the edge of the coffee table, facing her on the couch; their knees slid together. “I just meant don’t you have a girl to ask that you actually like?”  
“What the hell makes you think I don’t like you?”  
Clarke seemed surprised by his sincerity. “You aren’t really a ray of sunshine most of the time, Blake.”  
He snorted at that. “I’m springtime compared to you Monday morning before your coffee.”  
“Ooh, that’s true,” she said with a smile. “So, if I’m playing your fake girlfriend for a little over a month, what do I get out of it?”  
“Other than a spot on Santa’s Nice List for doing a good deed out of the kindness of your heart?”  
“I’m a card-carrying, infamous member of the Naughty List, Bellamy, and I won’t change my ways, even for you.” Clarke leaned forward. “So, what’s in it for me?”  
“I could offer you sexual favors. And pancakes. I make great pancakes.” He gave her his best attempt at a charming grin, which he had decent confidence was a really good attempt.  
“I’ll take both. This favor definitely warrants both. Plus a favor in return.”  
“Wait, seriously?” Bellamy wasn’t reading anything but legit from her and he didn’t know what to do with that.  
She only shrugged and smirked at him. “Were you lying about making great pancakes?”  
“Oh no, I do both the things I mentioned really well. I just didn’t think you’d be interested in either.”  
“Well, I am so not fake dating you without any benefits, Bell. And who in their right might doesn’t love sex and pancakes?”  
‘Fuck, princess, you can _real_ -date me.” She laughed, pulling him by his collar off the table and to the couch. He had her beneath him an instant later. “What was your favor?”  
“That you come with me to Raven’s Party Saturday.”  
“Done,” he said before she’d dragged his mouth to hers and his last coherent thought was, _why the fuck didn’t I ask her a month ago?_


End file.
